


Carmine Rose

by DiscordantJargon



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: All Is Not As It Seems, Deception, F/M, Fire, Human!Alastor?, Minor Character Death, Princess Charlie, Royalty, Stockholm Syndrome, Tragedy, hope you all enjoy :), human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscordantJargon/pseuds/DiscordantJargon
Summary: “She will always be his solace in the world so set against him.”
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	Carmine Rose

Gold and cream walls swirl themselves into an endless galaxy, with her father the sun and her mother, the moon. The gleam of the chandelier twinkles teasingly at her when she stares at them just so, and she cannot help but think of the stars outside, embedded like jewels in the onyx of the night sky. 

The castle is rich in color as she is ripe with love, a blossoming rose-bud as her tiny palm grasps the golden spoon and sweeps forth another bite of sugary cream, her face scrunching up in delight. A spark of laughter sounds, and she glances up as she feels a weight rest on her head, confused by her father’s laughter and her mother’s soft smile. His voice rumbles, and though Charlie struggles to understand what he says, she nods along eagerly all the same. She knows their love through the lullaby her mother sings to her every night as she lays to rest, and through the fond spark in her father’s eyes as he dotes on her, promising her an eternity of riches and marble and gold.

They are all she knows.

* * *

A rainbow lights before her and she gapes in awe, the stuffiness of her evening gown and the heavy weight of her crown dissipating into the cataclysm of loud, booming bursts across the sky. 

She has grown, and so has her world; no longer does she know only walls of porcelain and gold. She knows the fluorescent garden, the buzz of idle conversation, and the pallid gray of Ms. Vagatha’s - Vaggie, as she likes to call her- wondrously silky hair as it tickles her when the maid helps her dress in the morning. Her father is still her sun, though he scalds her at times with the expectations he sets. His words pierce past her fragile skin, causing her to peel and ache until the wound dulls and she lives on with a hidden scar. Still, she couldn’t imagine living without him - he provides her with all that she has, all that they have, and his warmth is far more welcoming than the cruelness which she catches whispers of in the wind. Her mother is still her moon - ever the wondrous centerpiece in the world competing for Charlie’s attention, yet cold and distant. On cloudy nights where she floods her pillow with doubts of her self-worth, she finds herself alone while her mother entertains the stars which flock to her, drawn by her melodious voice and glimmering beauty. Charlie cannot find it in herself to blame them, as lonely as she feels. 

Blinking back to the present, a smile blooms on her face as she admires the awed faces of the other guests. Even Vaggie, ever dutiful in her job, has halted in place to admire the spectacle before them. Though she dons only the inky uniform required of her, with the white frills all stained despite her efforts, she is just as beautiful as the nobles around them. They’re all beautiful roses in Charlie’s world, regardless of the thorns they wear to protect themselves with.

Content to immerse herself back into the colorful display before her, Charlie turns back. Fuschia catches her eye.

Amidst the gentle light of the candles around the venue, he alone stands unaffected by the display. Burgundy gloved hands idly nurse the champagne glass in his grasp as a dash of pink slips past his lips to savor the fleeting flavor of the drink. Catching her eyes, his easy-going smile widens, showing off his pearly teeth. She cannot explain the sudden rush of blood to her face, her pulse beating faster even as her eyes dart away. Unable to resist, her eyes return to him once more and a stuttery exhale escapes at the way his gaze remains faithful. 

His eyes are pools of carmine.

* * *

“A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

Under the glimmer of the chandelier, his eyes are a cozy hazelnut. His name is _Alastor_ , though his title is Mr.Duperie, as he’s the newest Valet to her father. Proud as a peacock, he stands before her draped in the same deep burgundy as the night their gazes first met. 

“Mr. Duperie-...

Boldly, he cuts her off, his gloved fingers teasing the soft petals of her lips. She blinks up at him, her lashes tickling her cheek with their voluminous length. The affronted gasp of her maid down the corridor barely misses her heated ears.

“Alastor, my dear, I insist. It’s only fair to stay on close terms if we are to be friends, no?”

His smile remains unwavering, confidence etched in each word of the question. She admires it feverishly, for confidence is something she’s always lacked. Hesitantly, a smile forms on her face, blooming in earnest when his face lights up with delight at her quiet admission. 

A moment later, a tight grasp winds its way around her arm and forces her attention to her infuriated maid, who drags her away. Vaggie is no fool to engage with someone so closely intertwined with the King, yet she reserves to protect Charlie as though she were her own. There are unspoken rules to be followed and she won’t let the vivacious spirit of the princess be tainted by a world she has blessedly remained unaware of.

Yet even Vaggie’s efforts cannot prevent the odd tug of warmth Charlie feels as she glances back, drawn by the splash of new color in the world she’s always known. His smile never wavers.

* * *

Vaggie’s warnings fall deaf on her ears at the thrumming of her blood through her chest and her tinkling laughter as it echoes through the empty library. Once sure she’d been bewitched by his supernatural ways, she now smiles with soft delight at his gentlemanly and puppy-like demeanor. He is nothing if not charming and provides credibility to the reason of his role as the Valet each time he shows his extensive knowledge of the world outside, _his_ world as a child, filled with the vivid colors and humid temperatures of Louisiana. Endlessly tempted by the mouth-watering dishes he describes, she cannot find it in herself to be offended when he laughs at her distress. At her request, he promises he’ll treat her someday with a mischievous wink, unaffected by her demanding pout.

He remains secretive in his promises like that, Charlie knows. When she had asked him how he managed to always find her on her own when he was meant to serve her father and if their time wasn’t infringing on his duties, he’d merely cast her a mischievous wink, mockingly lamenting that his time with the King was dreadfully boring as he was to always remain a confidant. Curiosity piqued, she was all too eager to question him further when he shocked her into silence!

“I always miss you so terribly whenever I’m gone. Royal matters and figures are always so conniving as you may know. It is a blessing that you alone remain pure, my dear. Your company is my only respite.”

Words failing, heat rushes to her face at his words. He is far out of line, always has been for his role, and yet she cannot help but feel enamored by his cunningness and his saccharine tongue. She sees the darkness which hides in his gaze as he watches the Royal Court from the shadows - how he smiles with a careless disconnect. Her heart has always ached for the glimpses she catches of that side of him - the side he presents to everyone. She cannot imagine the isolation he must feel, condemned by his role as the King’s secret confidant under the guise of being his Valet.

Gingerly reaching across to the plush velvet armchair he rests in, she lays her hand atop his own in sympathy. At the shock in his eyes, her heart twinges traitorously. To think he is so unused to contact and deprived of touch as to follow her around like a lost puppy and melt into each of her touches - it makes her heart burst with the need to make him feel loved as she had so often wished.

When he hesitates to return the touch, Charlie knows her heart is no longer her own. Inside the world of the castle, with its shadows shrouded with mystery and connivingness and eternal suspicion, they exist in their own bubble. She will always be his solace in the world so set against him.

The heat of his palm seeps through the satin gloves he wears. His eyes are carmine when he looks at her once more.

* * *

  
  


Flames lick up the walls of the castle, the once comforting sunny gold and clean porcelain now cold and unyielding to her fists as she sobs, her eyes stinging with bitter tears as fear clenches her heart, threatening to choke her even as she struggles to breathe past the acrid smoke slinking its way through the cracks of her door. Unable to stop crying, she’s assaulted with hiccups as she lays crumpled into herself on the bed, cradling her hand. She’d burnt the fragile skin when she’d heard screams first erupt into the night and scrambled off her bed without care to the doorknob, only to retract her hand with a cry of her own. It was _scalding._

At first frozen in shock, she was roused out of her state when yet another scream sounded, now resembling Vaggie. Eyes wide with fear, she desperately screamed the name of her maid and dear friend, forcing her palm around the doorknob once more, yet unable to open it as the heat burned her deeply. Dizzy with adrenaline, she’d rushed to the window, desperate to escape and somehow help her friend, only to draw back with shock as fire licked the ground beneath her window. 

She had never known the certainty of death as surely as then, the agonizing guilt and terror gripping her soul like a starving python as it threatened to devour her whole.

Trapped in her head, she doesn’t hear the cries of her name until the door is broken and the smoke rushes in, Alastor heaving at the door as he drops the axe he’d used. Still in shock, Charlie can’t make sense of his words, left only as the husk of an immobile puppet. Dimly, her senses register his touch when he picks her up, covering her mouth with a wet towel as he promises her they’ll make it out, that it’ll be okay - lies, she knows, but ones she welcomes all the same.

Smoke stings her eyes as she remains bound tightly in his grasp, her own arms wrapped around Alastor’s damp torso in a painfully tight grasp as he races through the winding hallways, cursing when flames threaten to eat them alive. 

_‘I want to wake up I want to wake up from this nightmare I don’t want to die I-I don’t want to die I-’_

The cloth covering her mouth slips, her lungs once more openly exposed to the smoke snaking its path through the castle. She has no strength.

Her vision fades.

* * *

Drenched in mahogany and taxidermied animals, her world is a tunnel of velvet and soft lights. Each morning she wakes, and her inexperienced fingers stumble with the buttons of her shirt as she dresses. She talks aloud to the wide collection of animal heads on the walls as she ties her hair by herself, her eyes avoiding the mirror. She laughs, and then laughs louder at the jokes she makes to fill the emptiness of the room.

Hearing the click of a doorknob, a smile blooms on her face, an unknown weight lifting itself off her chest as she rushes to greet Alastor. 

As always, his smile is kind upon seeing her, and he sets down their dinner to embrace her, ignoring her chiding about the blood on his suit. He can be terribly stubborn when he’s dead-set on something, she’s found, but then she loves him for that so she can’t truly be mad. He steps back after some time, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he instructs her to prepare their food while he takes care of his clothes. Charlie, hesitant to truly let him out of sight but knowing her protest would be ridiculous, saw him off before dragging the bag to the kitchen.

Stubborn as Alastor was, Charlie had endless reasons to be grateful to him. He had opened his world up to her when hers had collapsed, and he wasn’t perfect, but he was still with her, and that was enough. Shaking away her thoughts, Charlie set her attention to heaving the bag up onto the counter. One of the first things she’d learned about Alastor since he had opened up to her aside from his homey and secluded choice of lodging was his love of hunting. She couldn’t say she understood or...particularly enjoyed that aspect of him, but she wasn’t going to be picky when they were both isolated as they were. He was far too kind to deserve such treatment. 

Opening the bag, Charlie grasped her hands around the contents and startled, screaming when she felt the skin and limbs still attached. Dropping her knife and curling into herself, she rocked herself back and forth as Alastor rushed in, hastily tidying the new clothes he’d put on. Gaze darting left and right in search of danger, his eyes finally zeroed in on the contents haphazardly resting on the counter. Previously alert, his ever-present smile sank in the corners of his mouth, his eyes narrowing in exasperation.

“Dear, we’ve been over this. You do this every-time I bring us dinner. Surely you know you must get used to it if you are to eat somehow should I be absent.”

Still trembling, Charlie swallowed thickly, unable to bring herself to look up.

“I-I can’t A-Alastor, I c-can’t! Please...Please just remove the meat you want me to cook...I-I...I-I just c-can’t…”

At her heartfelt pleas, his demeanor finally softened and he crouched down to embrace her, gently rocking her in his arms until her eyes had dried and her heartbeat was once more steady.

“As you wish, ma cherie. You are still...struggling, I know. We’ll have ribs tonight, how does that sound? I’ll even make you my favorite sauce!”

Nodding against his chest, Charlie clung to Alastor’s back as he stood and set about cleaning, skinning and cutting their meal. The scent of rust was pungent, though she no longer gagged as she first had when he’d brought her here. Instead, she focused on breathing in his natural cinnamon musk, fixating on his faint heartbeat rather than the wet sounds of the meat as he cut it apart. 

“You’re squeezing me, dear...perhaps you’d like to get your mind off things with some music? Go on, have a look! I have plenty of records you can choose from.”

Squeezing him one last time in thanks, Charlie released her hold and quietly wandered over to the immense collection of novels and records Alastor had stocked in his shelves, lost in her thoughts. She’d been delighted when she first realized he had all of her favorites, though he’d cast it off as a mere coincidence. She knew better - he was terribly sweet no matter what he said. 

Letting fate decide, she closes her eyes and chooses one on a whim, covering the name to prevent herself from spoiling the surprise. Sliding the record from its cover, she placed it onto the record player and closed her eyes as it began to spin, quiet pops and crackles sounding before the music gently began to play. 

_“_ _You'll never know just how much I miss you..”_

Charlie froze, the voice hauntingly familiar. From the corner of her eye, she could see Alastor froze too, hunching forward onto the counter at the voice. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“That’s...that’s m-mo-”

“Charlie.”

Shoulders trembling, she can only cover her mouth with her hand, unable to express the sudden and intense loss sweeping through her body. The next second, she feels the harsh grip of Alastor’s hands on her shoulders, his expression unreadable. 

“They’re asleep.”

Unseeing, she blinks, the tears finally overflowing. Her voice comes out as a shaky whisper.

“What?”

As always, Alastor’s unwavering smile and eyes steady her.

“They’re asleep, dear. Nothing more. It’s alright. You have me. You’ve always had me. It’s alright.”

Head suddenly filled with intense pain, Charlie can only nod, tears still slipping down her face.

“I have you. I have you. I have...I have you.”

Alastor nods, his expression relaxing once more.

“That’s right, you have me. Only me. That’s all you need. You’re all I need. I’m all you need, Charlie.”

Sniffling, she gripped onto him like a lifeline, only then realizing he’d stopped the record.

“Hey, Al?

“Hmm?”

“Do...do you think you can stay with me longer this time? It gets lonely here without you…”

Gently raking his fingers through her hair, he gave a thoughtful hum.

“Not this week, I’m afraid. I have business I must attend to.”

Shaking like a leaf in his hold, a desperate sense of loneliness drove her to tug him down into a feverish and messy kiss until they were breathless.

“Please.”

If she begs, he’ll stay. He has to. He always does.

At last, his smile gives way to the one she loves so dearly.

“Alright my dear, tomorrow then. Be sure you eat dinner and save some so we may dine together next time. I know you’re still not used to the taste, but you can’t vomit up everything either. You’ll starve.”

She stays silent, savoring the last few seconds of his company before he leaves. She watches him go like a lost puppy, and he enjoys her attention for a moment. Then, the door shuts after him, the lock clicking shut.

Alone once more, Charlie resolves to tidy up the record before resuming dinner. She’s only mildly surprised when she finds it to be gone.

* * *

  
  


The basement door soundly shut behind him. Holding the record in his hand, he flipped it this way and that before smashing it onto the ground, laying harsh kicks across the offending object until it was broken beyond repair. Scattered across the floor like ashes, its onyx color stood out amongst the pallid gray of the numerous scattered bones along the floor.

To think such a measly _object_ nearly unwound all the progress he’d made. How **_laughable._ ** Still, no matter. She was in his grasp - begging for him to keep her even! She was his. He was hers. All was well.

Chuckling, he finally made his way up the stairs, bolting another door shut and replacing the wall panel and shelf hiding his dear pet. His lips curled into a predatory smile at the buzz of his radio in the background, reporting on the tragic fire at the Magne estate and the reports of a missing princess. His darling had yet to learn to truly appreciate the meals he brought her, but she’d adjust in time. 

Human was a refined delicacy after all.

* * *

In a castle of colors, her world is rose-tinted gold   
A love quite uncanny, a sight to behold  
For the crimson he pours  
Dyes her roses all red  
Yet, blind, she stays pliant   
Trapped by her mind and his web  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! this was one of those ideas that just wouldn't leave me alone until it was written haha
> 
> exploring Charlie and Alastor's relationship with this lens was super fun so I may end up making this part of a collection of one-shots revolving around stockholm syndrome w/their relationship. if not, I still have plenty of ideas in the works for these two c:
> 
> if you enjoyed this work, please consider leaving a kudos/comment to let me know that you enjoyed it, and to check out my other fic (Cicatrix) if you haven't already <3


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